


Alternative

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5781328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mayor Belle French approaches him with an unexpected request, Mr. Gold is startled into revealing his long hidden feelings for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternative

Mr. Gold is torn between smiling and squirming when Mayor French bursts into his shop just after noon, all bright eyes and sunshine. He successfully forces himself to do neither, not having to remind himself that she would be disgusted to have an old, bitter cripple react to her in such a manner.

After all, it has become second nature to him to pretend not to be in love with Belle French.

"What can I do for you, Madam Mayor?" the pawnbroker asks, priding himself on his pleasant and entirely neutral tone.

"There's something I want to ask," she says, an enchanting blush appearing on her cheeks. Mr. Gold pretends not to notice it, just like he has spent years acting as if he wasn't thoroughly aware of her radiant smiles and gentle touches. "But I don't really know how to get started. I... well, I suppose I might as well just get to the point."

"You know you can ask me anything, don't you?" he asks quietly, the daring question already spoken before he can remind himself that he shouldn't be so open with her, that one slip of tongue could make an end to their acquaintance.

"I know. Thank you."

She smiles at him in a way that can only be described as as appreciative and grateful. No matter how neutral his expression and posture his, his heart flutters painfully in his chest.

The mayor takes a deep breath, looking straight at him.

"I want a child, Mr. Gold," she blurts out. "And I need your help."

No matter how much the words shock him, the pawnbroker tells himself that she can't possibly mean what it appears she does. It's surprising to him in its own right that she longs for motherhood, but she couldn't possibly intend for _him_ to have anything to do with her future child, let alone have part in the conception of it.

But time passes, a heavy silence falling between them, and she doesn't say anything to elaborate on his involvement or, indeed, correct her apparent mistake of approaching him for this in the first place.

Mr. Gold swallows with difficulty, his eyes roaming for once openly over the woman in front of him. She is everything he is not, kind and brave and beautiful, and even in his lovesick state he is very much aware that she wouldn't want to have a child with him in the traditional way.

His genes, then. Although seemingly impossible as well, it makes some sense to him at least. Since she broke off her engagement to her oaf of a fiancé more than three years ago, she hasn't been together with any other man – or woman, for that matter.

Mr. Gold doesn't have to keep track of that himself, whether he would like to or not; Sidney Glass seems to be obsessed with scrutinizing Mayor French in his rag of a paper, as if the generous, kind-hearted woman could ever do anything unkind, let alone anything illegal or wrong in any other way.

So she wants him to be the donor of her child... of _their_ child, in a way. It's perhaps not entirely unlikely in a small town where most of the men are hardly more worthwhile than the one who she left.

Then again, he himself doesn't have anything going for himself other than his intellect. With Belle as a mother, the child would in all likelihood already be smarter than all of its peers anyway.

"What do you think?" she asks, a slight tremble in her voice. She's clearly not her usual confident self and being allowed to see this side of her doesn't do his rationality any good either. "Can you help me to get a child?"

He swallows again, with as much difficulty as the last time, his mind reeling at the implication of it. Of course the baby wouldn't be conceived in the traditional way and he can't presume that she would want him to have any part in the child's life whatsoever. But for all intends and purposes, they would have a child together, with all the implications and joy that such a responsibility would entail.

"I surely could," the pawnbroker says eventually, his heart pounding. "But to make such a decision... don't you think we first should get to know each other better? To discuss this in depth at least? Such a choice is not one to be taken lightly."

It's almost ironic that he's asking her for the very thing she has been offering for ages, what he has been rejecting for just as long. But this is a chance that he'll never get again, a once in a lifetime opportunity to interact with the woman of his dreams on a more personal level than he ever thought they could, for a reason beyond his pathetic perpetual infuriation.

"I would love to get to now you better _and_ to discuss this choice in more detail," she replies, beaming at him. In case he wasn't slack-jawed before, he certainly is now. "I'm aware that I'm taking on a huge responsibility, but I've already given this a lot of thought. I want to be a mother, but I can't imagine myself having a child with anyone in this town. Adopting a baby is the perfect solution for as far as I'm concerned. Especially if I can give him or her a better future that way."

His face may have been red before, but that's nothing compared to the heat that rushes to his cheeks when he realizes just how badly he has misunderstood her. He should have _known_ that she couldn't possibly ask of him what he thought she did.

He's mortified, despite her not knowing what horrible assumption he just made. More than anything, he has to keep it that way, to prevent her from being aware how wishful thinking painfully got the better of him... that he wants so much more from her than she would ever want to give him.

"No offense to you, Mr. Gold," she says slowly, scrutinizing him in a way that gives him the terrifying feeling that she is aware of his mishap after all, "but I don't think it's necessary for us to get to know each other better if you were to help me adopt a child."

"You're absolutely right, Madam Mayor."

His voice is as stoic as his posture, but inwardly the pawnbroker berates himself harshly. Judging from her reaction, some of his turmoil is visible on his face.

"So you _can_ help me adopt a child?"

She looks intently at him, studying him in a way she has never done before. The pawnbroker has to fight the urge to fidget, to loosen his tie... to hide behind his counter, to go anywhere where those impossibly deep and blue eyes can't reach into his very soul.

"I can, yes. It would be my pleasure."

No matter how much he'd like to be of service to her, in this matter as much as in any other, he almost fears the road they are about to travel together. It'll in all likelihood be too much, too personal, too painful... and he already finds himself craving any minute he can spend with her. Her child won't be his, but – in a way – the boy or girl bring them closer together regardless.

"I'm glad to hear that. The pleasure is mutual."

She smiles at him, but it's not the smile that has the shards of his heart rattle in his chest. There's a hint of sadness in it that wasn't there before.

"You... you've come to the right place, Madam Mayor," he says, trying to assure her. "I'd be truly happy to be of service to you."

He's nearing a border he has vowed never to cross, but he wants to comfort her and words are his only tool with which he may lift the sorrow that has come over her.

"I know. It means a lot to me." Her expression is unreadable, her words seemingly chosen with yet more care and spoken with yet more gentleness than usual. "Which reminds me... there's another path I consider pursuing."

Her gaze is ever so heavy on him, her eyes locked with his. He can't pull himself to look away, not even as he shivers under her attention.

"I see," he replies, although he doesn't understand at all what she's getting at by sharing her apparent doubt to adopt a child via him right before they are about to start that very process.

"I don't think you do, Mr. Gold."

The pawnbroker can barely breathe, can't _think_ when she looks at him like this, right past the mask he has so carefully maintained for longer than he can remember, even – especially – around her. "You see, there is a man in this town who has caught my attention... with whom I, in time, might consider having a child with if he were willing."

"He is not suitable as a father?" he asks, not allowing himself to feel anything at the discovery that she has feelings for a man in town after all, not understanding why she wants to adopt if there is a man with whom she might have a family of her own... not understanding why she tells _him_.

"I wouldn't say that. I think he would be a wonderful father, actually. It's more that I fear he isn't interested in me."

"Then he is a fool," Mr. Gold growls before he can stop himself, inwardly cursing whichever man has Belle's invaluable attention without being aware of it.

"Indeed, he probably is. On the other hand, there must be a good reason for him to act the way he does. It makes me wonder about this man only more."

Her focus on him is almost suffocating. Without being aware of the movements of his hands, let alone the permission he must have given them, he loosens his tie for some much needed air.

"He'd better have a very good reason," Mr. Gold mutters angrily, too bitter about this mystery man's carelessness with her affections to mind his tone.

"I suppose I'll never find out. He's not talkative at all, especially where his feelings are concerned."

He doesn't reply, fully focused on a spontaneous attempt to match her description with a man in town.

"I probably should stop thinking about him, but I just can't manage that. You see, he's... mysterious. Layered. Like a present to be unwrapped, very slowly."

Mr. Gold is oblivious to her pointed look, to her expression of both amusement and, mostly, dismay.

"He's the most interesting man I ever met and I barely got to know him thus far, despite knowing him for quite some years already. It's a joy to talk with him, although he doesn't often give me the chance."

The pawnbroker has no idea whatsoever who she could be referring to, whether there actually is someone like this in the small town.

"He's very polite and really quite charming when you are pleasant to him. I think he's got much more goodness in him than he might believe. I can only imagine what he might be like when you show him kindness and love."

Much as it hurts to hear her talk so passionately about another man, he drinks in each and every gushed words, each and every gesture of her animated hands and sparkle in her eyes.

"I think he is a gentleman. His manners are impeccable and he has never acted on his feelings for me because he believes that they weren't welcome."

By then, he just lets her words wash over him, only half understood, as he merely focuses on the ever so lovely sound of her voice. Later, when he is all alone once more, he can pretend that _he_ is the man about whom she speaks with such fondness.

"He's handsome, too," she adds meaningfully.

"Mayor French, please..."

Painfully reminded of his crippled ankle, scrawny build and graying hair, he finds that there is a limit to his endurance after all where the impossibly perfect man of her dreams is concerned.

"But more than anything, he's oblivious," she says quietly, her words completely lost on him as she lifts her hand towards him.

To his utter bewilderment, she caresses his cheek, the gentlest of fingertips brushing against skin that hasn't been touched in what seems like a lifetime. Not giving in to the urge to close his eyes and lean in to her inexplainable touch, Mr. Gold hopes that she can't tell how very much he savors the contact.

"I would have made my own interest more explicit, if only he hadn't kept the true nature of his feelings for me completely concealed all this time. I shouldn't have waited for that stubborn man to finally reveal something."

"Why are you telling me..." he stammers, unable to actually think when looking into those pools of the brightest of blue.

"I'm talking about _you_ , Mr. Gold. You are the man I have fallen for."

"But..."

His brain comes to a sudden stop, no longer capable of actually functioning.

" _You_ are the one I would like to be with."

"Mayor French, I..."

He blinks, digs his nails into the palms of his hands and even bites the inside of his cheek none too gently, but the woman of his dreams doesn't fade away.

"You can say how you feel, you know," she says quietly, dropping her hand from his face. He's too confused to notice. "Because I _think_ you like me the way I like you, but you don't actually say or do anything, and it's bloody scary to talk to you like this."

"I... I don't know what to say."

It's near impossible to believe that _he_ is the interesting, handsome and _good_ man that she has fallen for, that this isn't a huge misunderstanding of sorts. It wouldn't be the first time in the span of this conversation, after all.

"You could start by saying that you thought I wasn't talking about adoption when I told you I want a child."

His blush deepens when she refers to the humiliating mistake that started all this.

"You _did_ think of actually having a child with me, didn't you?"

The insecurity in her voice could have been his own. Loathing that she has become doubtful and insecure, only more so because he is the cause of it, he nods slowly in confirmation.

"And you were disappointed when you realized I was talking about adoption."

He nods again, yet more reluctantly.

"Yes, I thought you were," she exclaims, beaming at him as if... well, as if she's genuinely pleased that he just all but admitted once more that he feels a whole lot more for her than he ever should.

Her expression sobers almost immediately however when he fails to share her enthusiasm.

"I have to confess that I imagined admitting our feelings for each other would be a whole lot less difficult once we actually acknowledged them."

"I can't wrap my mind around it," he mutters, gathering what little courage he has. "I don't really _believe_ it."

"What do you need to believe?" she asks, slowly reaching for his hand.

Wanting the contact more than she'll probably ever know, he allows her to take his hand and entwine their fingers. She doesn't seem to care that his palm is clammy and trembles considerably to boot.

"I don't know," he says, shuddering yet more when she lightly brushes her thumb along his hand. "I very much want to, to... be with you."

The last words are almost a provocation, but there is no sign of rejection or horror whatsoever when he admits to her what he never thought he would.

"So what's holding you back?"

Reeling from the fact that Belle didn't laugh in his face or fled his shop when he revealed his hopes with regards to her and their relationship, he is convinced that he can't answer her question.

But then she squeezes his hand gently and he allows his gaze to slide over her, to take in each perfect inch of her. No matter how much he longs to touch her, all of her, it's her face that he is most drawn to, her eyes and small smile encouraging him.

"We don't know each other very well," he says eventually, "but knowing you is very dear to me, even if we only do business like we have in the past few years. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose _you_ ".

"I don't want to lose you, either. But I don't think we will. Let's take our time. We don't have to rush into anything."

Mr. Gold finds himself nodding, his hope for once stronger than his many fears and insecurities now that Belle is smiling at him like this.

"And just so you know," she says adds, "in due time I _do_ imagine myself having a child with you."

He splutters at the heat that her matter-of-fact statement has coursing through him.

"But for now, I'll be very happy if you would start using my first name somewhere in the near future. Maybe you'll finally tell me yours as well by then."

The reminder that she doesn't even know his first name is an unpleasant one, but that too doesn't seem to matter any longer all that much when she keeps smiling at him and squeezes his hand again.

"How about you pick me up from town hall at seven tonight and the two of us go to that new restaurant to get to know each other better and enjoy each other's company?"

"That sounds very lovely," the pawnbroker replies after only a few seconds of hesitation, deciding that the off-chance that this might actually lead to something good between them is worth the risk.

"It's a date," she says, beaming at him again.

"A date it is," he agrees, still barely believing the words coming out of their mouths.

"I'll see you at seven then," she says, sliding her hand from his with a reluctance that's clear even to him.

Mr. Gold has no idea about the current time, but the beginning of the evening can't come soon enough even though a considerable part of him is already dreading their date, considering all the things which are likely to go wrong.

At least some of his resurfaced doubts must be showing. Instead of making her way out of his shop, she lingers in front of him, scrutinizing him once more.

After a long moment, Belle steps closer towards him, leaving almost no distance between them. She rests her left hand on his shoulder and the right one on his frantically beating heart.

No one has been nearly as close to him as this for as long as he can remember. All he can do is stand there as she leans in to him, slowly but surely, her eyes fluttering shut.

He intuitively closes his eyes too, partly in anticipation of a kiss he was convinced he would never experience, and partly to brace himself for the disappointment he can't help but still expect, awaiting a kiss that can't possibly truly be bestowed upon him.

The pressure of her lips against his own is undeniable however, the contact light and brief but very, very real. Almost light headed with the joy rushing through him and not knowing what else to do, he just stands there, his arms limply at his side. Belle doesn't seem to care, his none too quiet grunt met by a moan of hers.

Mr. Gold opens his eyes a few long seconds after she has withdrawn. She's still right in front of him, her hands still on him, the seemingly ever present smile on her face only wider. Somehow, it appears he has done something right.

"I'm hoping for more of those tonight. Just so you know."

Just like that, she turns around and all but skips towards the exit of his shop. Still, the sudden lack of contact between them doesn't leave him feeling nearly as bereft as he thought it would.

"It would be my pleasure... _Belle_."

Mr. Gold has no idea where he found the inspiration or the bravery to tell her this, but he's very grateful that he did. Her smile is almost blinding and he allows himself a tentative lift of the corners of his mouth in response.

"I can't wait for tonight," she says, giving him a little wave before making her way outside and closing the door behind her.

It takes several minutes before Mr. Gold has somewhat processed what just happened, his heart giddily fluttering in his chest the whole time. He might be none too certain about the outcome, but their date – their life together, for that matter - can't start soon enough.


End file.
